


The Silent Treatment

by Mansaeboysbe



Category: GOT7, K-pop
Genre: Angst, Baking, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:51:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mansaeboysbe/pseuds/Mansaeboysbe
Summary: Living above a bakery was the best and worst idea you’d ever had.





	The Silent Treatment

**Author's Note:**

> -Admin Bee

Living above a bakery was the best and worst idea you’d ever had. Pros: Your apartment, including yourself, always smelled like fresh bread and sugary concoctions from the constant baking going on downstairs. With the windows open, you didn’t need air fresheners or perfume. Cons: The constant perfume of sugar was enticing enough to go down and buy something every day. Your constant gluttony of sweets starved your bank account, but the rice buns were completely worth it.

The owners of the bakery were a sweet elderly couple; the Tuan’s. They had opened the bakery as a young couple in love back in the 60’s and shared their love with the community until it thrived into a popular tourist spot. Anyone visiting was recommended to stop into their store and buy a donut and chat with the owners over a cup of their famous coffee. You were surprised the apartment over their shop was available for rent, and at such a low cost too. As it turns out, the Tuan’s loved to support the younger people in their community and bought the entire space above their shop for struggling young adults, like yourself. It wasn’t much bigger than a college dorm room, but you were still in love with the space.

You started out Friday like usual: you woke up to the smell of sweet pastries, took a shower, got dressed, and started preparing breakfast. You had just put the toast into the toaster when someone knocked at the door.

When you opened it, a boy who looked to be a little older than you was standing there, a bag from the bakery in his hand.

“Can I help you?” you asked. He shifted his weight, dropping his gaze from yours to the floor before extending the bag towards you.

“From Halmeoni,” he muttered.

You took the bag, looking inside to find a fresh red bean cake. Smiling, you thought of Mrs. Tuan getting up before the rest of the city and gathering the ingredients. You saw her kneading the dough, singing a song, and pouring love into her pastries before putting them into the oven.

“Thank you.” you told him. He didn’t look back up so you stood in silence for a few moments before you spoke again.

“So, you must be Mark. Your grandmother loves to talk about you, she says such sweet things. I’m (Y/N).” you held out your hand to him, but instead of shaking it, he just looked at you, and then over your shoulder.

“You’re burning something.”

You turned to see smoke pouring out of the toaster. Scurrying over to the counter, you set the cake down before leaping to unplug the appliance. You extracted the now blackened bread and threw it into the trash, leaning back against the counter in exasperation.

When you had caught your breath again, you realized that you had left the door open. Mark, assuming that was who brought the cake up, was nowhere to be seen. He probably saw the burning toaster as his opportunity to leave. He seemed kind of odd, but you made a mental note to personally thank Mrs. Tuan for the cake.

Realizing you were late leaving for school, you grabbed your school bag and ran out the door, forgetting both breakfast and lunch.

~

By the time classes were over, you were starving. Seeing how you wanted to thank Mrs. Tuan for the cake earlier, you decided to have lunch in the cafe. As you approached the store, there was already a line out the door. It took about two minutes to even get through the entrance, and five to get to the counter.

“It’s really busy today,” you commented to the man behind the counter. Mr. Tuan smiled at you, punching your order into the register.

“We are lucky to have this many people. She has been working very hard since this morning to fill the bakery case.”  
“I wanted to thank her for the cake she sent me. Is she still working in the kitchen?”

“Yes,” he replied, “but take a seat and she can bring out your order.”

You sat at one of the small, round tables, watching the lunch rush flow in and out like the tide. People came in, got their pastry and tea, and left to go back to their jobs. When the crowd had subsided, you saw Mrs. Tuan come out of the kitchen. She saw you and gave a little wave when she suddenly remembered something and went back into the kitchen. It wasn’t her who came back out with your sandwich, though, it was Mark.

He set the plate down on the table and you made sure to thank him immediately before he could walk away. He nodded, turning to clear the table next to yours.

“Wait,” you started. He paused in the middle of picking up a napkin to look at you expectantly.

“That was a weird first impression, I don’t usually burn my toast… uh, thanks, by the way.”

He looked down at his table, a small smile creeping onto his face after a moment. You thought he was going to say something, but he just picked up a tray and walked back into the kitchen.

Deciding to leave the subject be, you dived into your lunch. You were halfway through your sandwich when Mrs. Tuan came out of the kitchen again, this time walking towards you. She stopped in front of you, placing a hand on the empty chair. You smiled at her, inviting her to sit. She sat down, placing her small cup of tea on the table.

“How is everything?” she asked gently.

“Wonderful, Halmeoni, just as always. I wanted to thank you for the cake earlier, it looks amazing.”

“Of course, it is a new recipe we are trying,” she paused, a small glint of mischief in her eye. “Did Mark introduce himself?”

You blushed at the memory, wondering if your apartment would smell like burnt toast now.

“We kind of got off on the wrong foot-” you started, but Mrs. Tuan stopped you before you could explain. She went into the back again and emerged shortly, this time with an exasperated Mark being pulled along by the wrist.

“Mark, try again.” Halmeoni had one steady hand on his wrist and the other pushed him towards you firmly. He looked like he was holding back an eye roll but begrudgingly stuck his hand out towards you.

“I’m Mark,” he stated, which was more of an introduction than you got this morning. You smiled and took his hand, introducing yourself again. His hand was actually pretty soft but strong… you snapped out of your thoughts when you realized Halmeoni was speaking again.

“-staying with us for the summer before going back to work in Seoul. Of course his mother wanted to see him first but I told her, ‘he needs a better work ethic than just singing all day’ so they’ll be visiting in a few weeks, but for now… oh dear I’ve been blabbing, Mark sit and talk, I’ll go refresh our teas.” And with that she whisked off to the kitchen with two teacups, both of you staring after her, confused as to what had just happened.

Rather than continuing the conversation, he sat and started messing with his hands. You decided to pick up where Halmeoni had left off.

“So, you’re a rapper? What’s that like?”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, looking at you while he scratched the back of his head. You nodded, an awkward silence falling between you two again.

“So, uh, like with a band or just solo work in your garage?” you tried again, sitting back against the soft booth cushion.

He shrugged again, “yeah, I guess.”

You sighed, accepting that you weren’t getting anywhere with this guy. Sitting up, you shouldered your school bag and picked up the other half of your sandwich.

“I should go, schoolwork and stuff. Tell your grandmother thank you again for the cake.” you stood and looked to him, waiting for an answer or maybe a plea for you to say. Instead, he grunted and went back to picking at his nails.

“Right then.” Rolling your eyes, you made your way outside and to the back stairs behind the bakery that led up to your apartment. You could guess he wasn’t much of a talker.

~

You were in Economics when the girls sitting in front of you started whispering excitedly. You tried to ignore them, but Karol turned around and held her phone out towards you.

“Hey, (Y/N), have you been here yet?”

You looked at the picture, recognizing the soft pink logo on the front of the building.

“That’s ‘Sugar Floss’, they’re super popular in North America. How come?”

“‘Cause we just got one here in the neighborhood, it opened last week. We were going to go after class, want to come with?  
You shook your head, “Sorry, I should study.”

The new bakery was on your mind for the rest of class, and it was really hard to concentrate. Why hadn’t you heard about it opening? You decided to visit the cafe after class and ask Mrs. Tuan.

You could tell immediately that something was wrong as you approached the bakery. There was usually a huge line by the time you got back from school, and today it was deserted. You checked the time, but it was lunchtime as you had expected. Where were all the customers?

It was almost empty when you got inside, aside from a few regulars. Mr. Tuan wasn’t at the counter, so you let yourself in and went into the kitchen. You knew Mrs. Tuan wouldn’t mind, you had helped her out before on the odd Sunday, plus you were like a grandchild to her.

“Halmeoni?” you called.

“Back here, dear.” The soft voice came from the ‘break room’, a small sitting room off of the kitchen. You entered to see Mr. and Mrs. Tuan sitting on a couch together, facing the TV that was currently showing a commercial. You recognized that shade of pink anywhere, but you were surprised this was the first advertisement you had seen from Sugar Floss. Mark was sitting at a coffee table against the wall, eyes shifting away from the notebook in front of him occasionally to look at his grandparents or out the window.

“Where is everyone?” you asked, taking a seat in the chair with your back to Mark.

Mr. Tuan squeezed his wife’s shoulder, who was watching the commercial with forlorn interest.

“The corporate bakery opened down the street, and they’re offering free cupcakes for the day, so we’re probably just experiencing a small withdrawal of customers.”

You nodded, swallowing the fear you were holding in your throat.

“Some girls in my Economics class were talking about going there, why haven’t you heard of one opening here?”

Mrs. Tuan was the one to speak this time, tearing her gaze away from the television screen.

“We think they rushed the opening; these corporate businesses are able to be put up in only a few days. But as I always say: good things take time. Anything that takes less than a day to build won’t last long at all.”

You nodded again, more slowly this time. You were just about to ask how this was going to affect their bakery, but the telephone ringing interrupted you. Mr. Tuan rose to get it, and the three of you sat in silence until he came back. When he reentered the room, his face was grave.

“That was Melissa, she won’t be coming back. They offered her a job.”

Mrs. Tuan gasped and shook her head, her shoulders falling.

“What are we going to do?” she asked her husband, taking his hands.

“Melissa quit? How could she do that?”

Mr. Tuan turned to you, shaking his head. “They all quit. Sugar Floss took them all.”

You stared at the elderly couple in confusion and frustration at the former employees. What did this mean for their business? What if today wasn’t the only day there was a lack of customers? Who was going to replace the six workers who quit?

“Ask (Y/N) to work.” Mark’s monotone voice interrupted the silence. You saw Mrs. Tuan look up from her hands, and you turned around to stare at Mark. He was already back to concentrating on his journal, but he shifted his eyes up from the page to look at you. You thought, maybe, you saw a glimmer of hope.

“Oh, (Y/N), would you? We wouldn’t be able to pay you, but we could deduct your rent, and we could work around your school hours if you could come in for the lunch rush…” Mrs. Tuan’s voice was so small and weak, you couldn’t bear to turn her down.

“Of course Halmeoni, but I don’t know a thing about baking.”

“Don’t worry dear, Mark and I will take care of the pastries if you would help Mr. Tuan with the front of the bakery.”

So from that day forward, you worked at the bakery. It wasn’t very hard, you just had to clean tables and keep the windows and floors shiny and inviting. Though, it didn’t seem like you were helping much. The customer count was still very low. Sometimes it would just be you and Mark sitting behind the counter, waiting until someone came in. You were always the one to step up and greet them, while he kept his eyes trained on the countertop, his fingers tracing imaginary patterns on the wood. The customers that did come in usually got their food for takeout; you figured it was because they were intimidated by the lack of other people in the cafe. Your awkward silence would be broken for three minutes while you filled their order, and then when the customer left, the silence seeped back in. Mrs. Tuan seemed to love how much time you spent together, though. You figured that out pretty quickly when she started asking Mr. Tuan to “help her with something” in the kitchen, a sly glint in her eye. At first, he was confused and asked Mark to go help, but Mrs. Tuan persisted until he realized she wanted you to be alone together. If she thought this would make the two of you closer, it definitely didn’t work.

Mark was just so… monotonous. You’d never said more than four words to each other, and all of your conversations have been one-sided, by you. Maybe he was just bored of being here with his grandmother, or he was just bored of you. Whichever it was, you never appreciated his attitude. Was there anything that would make him happy about being here?

“Marky!”

The sudden voice pierced the silence in the bakery, and the both of you whipped around to see who had yelled. There was a woman standing in the doorway, hands outstretched towards you. Behind her stood an older man and a boy who looked about your age. You turned to look at Mark to say something, but you fell silent when you saw his face. He had brought his hands up to cover his mouth and his usually blank eyes were beginning to flood with tears. He quickly ran behind you to get on the other side of the counter and into the arms of the woman who met him in the middle of the shop. They gripped each other tightly and Mark’s shoulders began to shake. You watched the two, your heart pulling at the sight when you saw someone shift in your peripheral vision.

Looking to your left, you saw the older man had come to lean against the counter. The way he held his face was familiar, and then you realized these must be Mark’s parents.

“He talks about you, you know?”

You turned your attention back to the man, “What?”

“I’m sorry, I’m assuming you’re (Y/N). I’m Mark’s dad, but you can call me Papa.”

Mark had moved to hug the boy who looked your age, the brightest smile you had ever seen on his face lighting up the room.

“He’s talked about me?”

Papa Tuan gave you a sideways glance, his eyes quickly flitting back to Mark and his brother.

“You sound surprised. From what he’s said, I assumed you two were… best friends.”

His pause worried you, but you pressed to get more information.

“I enjoy working with him but we’re hardly best friends. We don’t talk all that much,” you admitted.

You saw the older man’s lip twitch and a smile began to slowly appear on his face.

“I want to tell you something about Mark,” he spoke, turning to lean his elbows on the counter to face you, “he doesn’t say much out loud, but there’s a lot going on in that head of his. You say you’re not friends, but I think he made a different decision a while ago.”

You felt the blush rise on your cheeks and softly moved to touch them, earning a knowing smile from Papa Tuan that made you blush even more. The glint in his eye grew brighter and he laughed, a short, loud exclamation that caught the attention of the other party.

“Yeobo, are you embarrassing that poor girl?” Mark’s mom had seen you blushing into your hands and was making her way over to you.

“Oh don’t mind him, sweetheart, he’s just an old crow. It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Mark’s mother, he has told us so much about you, and it’s wonderful to meet the beautiful girl he’s been raving about!”

“Eomma,” Mark sighed, his brother laughing and patting his back while he turned and pretended to become invested in one of the tables.

“Oh hush Mark, if you didn’t want us to mention it, then you shouldn’t have said something in every phone call home,” Mrs. Tuan protested back, her hands stuck onto her hips in the most determined pose you had ever seen. You were on a strange line between laughing with them and crying out of confusion. Had Mark really said so many nice things to them about you? If he didn’t talk to you, how could he have so much to tell his family? You thought back to what Papa had said, about how Mark thought more than he expressed and your frustration towards him softened and a little bit of admiration flowed in. It was kind of sweet of him when you thought about it. Maybe he wasn’t all that you had made him out to be…

“I’m (Y/N),” you finally managed, extending your hand out towards his mother. Instead, she reached over the counter and gave you a hug. You couldn’t help but giggle at the affectionate outburst. She drew away first, rubbing your arms a little before turning back to her family. It made you miss your own mother and father, but they were traveling god-knows-where while you were in school, which made it impossible to contact, and much less, see them.

“Well, we ought to go find Halmeoni and catch up with them too, I hope we didn’t drag you away from your work.”

You glanced around the shop, but not even the 3 o’clock regulars were there. Whether they had stopped by and seen the reunion or they just didn’t come, you would never know. It seemed everyone else noticed how eerily quiet the shop was because eyes were shifting around, looking for any sign of a customer. Mrs. Tuan was the first to move, giving Mark a final squeeze on the arm and coming behind the counter, disappearing into the back room. His father and brother shortly followed, Papa giving you another cheeky smile and his brother quickly introducing himself as Joey before going into the back as well. You stayed facing the doors until you heard Mark’s shoe scuff on the tiled floor and you turned to see him standing as you were, letting the excitement of the moment pass.

He looked, different, somehow, standing by himself in the dining room of an empty cafe. The sun was shining through the large, front windows, silhouetting him in golden rays, and the tug on your heart was back. You didn’t want to say anything, afraid that a single sound would shatter this tranquility, this image of peace and love that was weighing down Mark’s shoulders. He seemed more vulnerable, his heart opened after having cried upon being reunited with his family. He was the one to move first, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and then looking up to you, the shutters that usually closed off any emotion in his eyes hadn’t been shut yet.

He was just a boy, who had to be separated from his family for months.

So maybe you had something in common.

You stared at each other for a while, both of you knowing the questions that were dying to be released into the atmosphere.

Why do you talk about me?

What have you told them?

How long have we been friends?

But you stood in silence, your eyes locked together until someone dared to look away. You felt nervous, almost, like Mark was able to reach into your soul with just his gaze and tear up the secret you hadn’t wanted to admit to yourself.

Maybe Halmeoni had the right idea.

Finally, like he couldn’t stand it anymore, Mark turned and started quickly walking towards the door, probably looking to get away from the suffocation you both felt. You found yourself walking out from behind the counter towards him, pulled towards the door in an effort to stop him from leaving.

“Mark,” you uttered, your hand stopping short of reaching out towards him. He hovered in the doorway, one hand on the handle before turning back over his shoulder slightly, his eyes trained on something over your shoulder.

“Can’t we talk?”

But he was out the door, hurriedly making his way down the street towards somewhere, while you were left to stand alone in the bakery, without answers.

~

The Tuan’s hadn’t even been there for a week when everything plummeted. It started on a Tuesday morning, as you and Mark were just finishing setting up the coffee bar and helping a few customers when a man in a crisp, professional suit came through the door.

“Welcome to Seoltang, can we-” you started your greet but were cut off by the man holding his hand up to stop you. He kept his eyes on Mark, who was staring at him with blank curiosity.

“I’m here to speak to the owner of this establishment.” The man spoke in a low voice as if his demand was a secret for only you. Mark eyed him wearily and then looked over to you, but all you could do was shrug slightly. Neither of you had any idea what was going on. Mark nodded in the man’s direction with a mumble and went back into the kitchen to get Mrs. Tuan.

“Can we offer you anything while you wait?” you squeaked, the man’s palm still hovering near your face. He lowered his hand and looked at you for what seemed like five years before shifting his eyes to scan the menu board behind you

“A coffee… please.” He replied gruffly, going into his jacket to retrieve his wallet. When he was grabbing his debit card, you noticed an employee card in the clear pocket.

Bryce Parid

Human Services

Sugar Floss

You felt your throat tighten as you poured his coffee into a cardboard cup with the bakery’s logo on the front. What was a man from Sugar Floss doing here, and why was he going to speak to Halmeoni? The dread splashed around in your stomach, causing you to spill some of the scorching hot coffee on your hand. You hissed, setting the pot and cup down before grabbing a rag nearby to get the liquid off of your skin. You placed a lid on the cup and handed it back over to the businessman, straining a smile as you counted and returned his change. He looked toward the empty tip jar, twisting his mouth around until deciding to drop his coins into the jar. At least he wasn’t as big of an asshole as he could be.

Mark returned with Halmeoni, who looked smaller and frailer than usual. She stood behind the counter looking at the businessman, her wrinkled hands shakily smoothing down the front of her worn apron before she put on a confident face and stepped up towards him. The businessman said something that you couldn’t hear, and Mrs. Tuan nodded before they both turned to walk into the kitchen. Mark and you watched as they disappeared behind the doors, probably going to the makeshift conference room.

The burning in your hand grew stronger again now that the distraction was gone, and you had to muffle the scream that tried to escape your mouth. Mark looked towards you with an unusual worried look on his face. You met his eyes and blushed, unwrapping the towel from around your hand to reveal the bright red mark splashed on your skin. He tentatively reached forward, taking your hand in his delicately. He was being so careful with your injury like you were a creampuff that threatened to deflate if he handled it too rough. He led you over to the sink by the coffee maker, turning on the cold water and guiding the burn underneath it. It stung at first, but Mark’s curled hand around yours seemed to distract you from the immediate pain.

You sat in silence, watching the water roll over the burn and listening to the sounds of an almost empty cafe. Mr. Ryndine, one of the older customers who came in almost daily, came over to say goodbye to you before leaving for work. He was curious about what you were doing, but you blushed in explaining how you burned your hand and Mark’s eyes never came up from watching the water spill out of the facet. Mr. Ryndine caught your eye and gave you a wink before turning away, and you wondered if the burning in your cheeks was worse than the one on your hand.

“How long does this have to be underwater?”

“20 minutes” was his reply, and you went back to listening to the water. You let your mind wander back to Halmeoni. What was taking this man so long to talk to her about? It couldn’t be anything good, especially if it was a representative from the competition. The bakery had been feeling the effect of a corporate company moving into the small neighborhood. People seemed to enjoy the taste of processed sugar and flour more than something homemade.

You were brought out of your thoughts by Mark turning off the water and waving his free hand over the soaked area, trying to get it to air dry. You giggled at the sight, catching Mark’s attention. You thought you saw a smile blossoming on his face, but he turned to the first aid kit before you could see if it turned into a full expression. He took the gauze out of the kit, delicately picked up your hand again and began to wrap the burned area. He was using enough pressure to keep the bandage in place, but you didn’t feel any pain at all. When he was done, he didn’t let go, instead, he kept your hand cradled in his, his fingers wrapping around yours softly. You looked up to see his face and was surprised to see his eyes already on yours, an unreadable expression swimming in them. He shifted his gaze down to your lips and back up, and you really thought he was going to kiss you. And at that moment, you realized that you kind of wanted him to.

You were interrupted by a raised voice and the sound of a door being shoved open. You broke apart quickly, your other hand replacing the space where his had been in supporting the injury. Halmeoni wasn’t shouting but she was clearly frustrated and determined as she trailed the businessman to the front door. He turned and said something to her and she huffed, opening the door for him and forcing him out. When he was on the sidewalk, she slammed the door to the best of her ability, even though it was reinforced to close softly.

She stood watching him walk down the street toward Sugar Floss. When she turned back towards you, you could tell she was trying her best to keep her composure.

“Mark,” her voice shook, “please go get Halabeoji.”

You glanced at each other and you wondered if the worry on your face mirrored his. He disappeared into the back and she came towards you, her hands softly taking yours. The dread pooled in your stomach again as she looked at you, defeated.

“(Y/N), I’m afraid we aren’t able to support you working here anymore.”

You nodded but it was obvious there was something else she was keeping from you. You waited for her to continue, and she took another breath before raising her eyes to look at you, already brimming with tears.

“There’s something else…” another deep breath, “we won’t be able to keep the apartments open soon, so we’re going to tell the tenants now and provide anything we can in helping you find a new place.”

“Halmeoni, what’s going on? What did that man say to you?”

She smiled at you, but it was still strained. She leaned closer to you and gave your hand a squeeze.

“Our lease on this building is almost up and Sugar Floss is offering the owner more money than we can. That man came by to offer us money for the rights to this bakery; the logos, the furnishing, the recipes,” she patted the counter, “but I couldn’t do that. We’ve built this bakery from the ground up, if it’s going down, we’ll go down with it.”

A bittersweet silence fell between you, and then Halmeoni was looking around the small dining area, a genuine smile spreading over her face before she let out a soft laugh.

“We’ve had a good run here, now it’s time for a new adventure.”

With that, she stood up and came around to your side of the counter, giving both of your shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

“If you need any help looking for someplace or packing, later on, I’ll send Mark up to help you.”

~

Moving day came faster than you wanted it to. Finding another apartment wasn’t easy; no one else in the city seemed to be as kind as the Tuan’s when it came to renting to broke college students. You settled on moving in with another tenant, Lisa, from a few floors up. You were kind of friends, but it was going to be easier to pay for the basement studio apartment with someone else. It wasn’t near as nice as the apartment you had now, and it smelled like mildew instead of fresh pastries, but you couldn’t go back to living in a college dorm when you would be graduating so soon.

The upstairs apartments became eerily quiet within a week of the Tuan’s announcing the bakery and residence would be closing. In horrible timing, the eviction caused all of the renters to become closer with each other. You started leaving your doors open like a college dorm hall, and anyone could come over and ask for help packing or looking for an extra roll of tape, or just to stop by and say hello and tell stories. A few people from your college who lived in the building even started speaking to you in class and walking home with you.

Mr. Casey was the first one to officially move out. He owned the apartment above yours, and sometimes he would play the piano in the morning. You didn’t talk much, but you found yourself misty-eyed when he packed his last box into his small car and gave you a final wave before driving away. Everyone gathered in front of the cafe to wish him off, and Mrs. Tuan baked him his favorite pastry as a send-off gift; lemon drop cookies. She baked everyone one last treat before they left, and she cried for everyone too.

You put off packing as long as you could. Lisa had moved out and was already setting up your new shared residency, and the longer you stayed above the bakery, the more say she had in the decoration of the apartment. You didn’t care though, you couldn’t stand to tear yourself away from the place you had called home for so long. You stayed behind to help the Tuans pack too because even with Mark’s family there, it was still a lot of work. For leasing reasons, the Tuans had to close Seoltang first, which meant holding a closing ceremony, and then spending the weekend packing every tray, spatula, and extra bag of chocolate chips. It was nice to see a lot of people turn up for the closing ceremony, even if it was just the regular customers, tenants, and Mark’s family. You couldn’t help but feel a little bitter that you couldn’t have done anything to save the bakery, but you put on a positive attitude for Halmeoni.

After the last of the Tuan’s boxes were packed, you forced yourself to go upstairs and finish packing your stuff. You tried to take your time, and it wasn’t hard when you found yourself sidetracked by a memento you found in your kitchen drawer or in the back of your closet. You were sitting on the kitchen floor when there was a knock at your door, and you were briefly reminded of the time Mark came by and you ended up burning the toast. You smiled at the memory, your heart aching at the truth you would have to face soon: you’d possibly never see Mark again. You’d come to the realization one night after Halmeoni told you about the bakery closing, and you couldn’t stop the sharp stinging in your heart and your eyes from keeping you up. You barely knew anything about him, but every moment you spent in silence, you could feel yourself growing fonder of him. And when you almost kissed… it was hard not to feel something for him. You’d spoken a little after that day, but never about the almost-kiss. Still, you never wanted to bring it up in fear of him running away again.

“In the kitchen!” you called. Even after everyone left, you frequently left your door open just for familiarity. Maybe it wasn’t the safest practice, but it was the only tenant left, and you enjoyed spending time with Mark’s mom whenever she came up to visit with you in the afternoon. She even gave you some tips on packing and keeping a good apartment, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t discussed Mark a few times.

You heard some footsteps on the carpet, but you didn’t recognize them immediately. You were about to get up and see who it was, but the familiar face came around the corner of your counter before you could. Mark looked confused before he noticed you sitting on the floor, and he smiled. You were taken by surprise by his sudden visit and how he actually looked outwardly happy, but you went along with it as he offered you a hand to get up. Once you were standing, he looked at the open boxes you had strewn around the kitchen and then back at you, giving you a quizzical look.

“Look, I know I’m not the best packer, but are you going to help or not?” you rolled your eyes, smiling to let him know you were joking. He nodded and started putting away some of the spatulas you had wrapped but had failed to actually put into a box. You packed silently for ten minutes until the kitchen was done and you showed him into your room where you hadn’t finished packing your books and most of your closet. He looked intrigued by the bookshelf and started reading some of the titles while you went back to packing away your shirts. You felt questions gnawing away at your brain until you couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Mark?” you started, looking over to where he was sitting on your bed, reading the first pages of The Great Gatsby. He looked up, waiting for you to continue.

“It’s just, did I do something wrong? I mean, I’ve tried to be civil to you this entire time, but we never talk and I can’t help but feel like I did something to make you mad?” I couldn’t help but let the confusion slip out into your sentence.

He looked puzzled for a second and then concerned. For the first time, he spoke. “You really think this is about you?”

You hadn’t expected a reply, so when he spoke you had to think about what he did.

“Excuse me?” you finally replied, finding the accusation in his voice.

“I’m sorry, but have you thought this entire time that because I haven’t said much to you that it was because of you?”

“Well, I, kind of, yes?”

He scoffed, setting the book down to fully turn his attention to you “Has it maybe crossed your mind that on top of being horrible at starting conversations, I’ve also been under a lot of stress these past couple of months? That maybe being here without my best friends, on top of having to manage my grandparent’s failing bakery was on my mind most of the time? I mean, it’s bad enough that Halmeoni talks so highly of you, but now you think this is your fault?”

You didn’t know how to feel about his sudden defense, so you tried to smooth it out. “I don’t know, I just thought since you were constantly running away from me that you didn’t like me or that I wasn’t good enough for you or-”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He got up from the bed and paced to the door and back, running a hand through his hair, “what is with you girls and constantly worrying about everything you do to please us?”

“Oh so it is my fault?” you shot back, bristling. He huffed, dropping his arms to his sides and looking straight at you

“You know that’s not what I meant, I just mean, why are you worrying so much about what I think? Don’t you have better things to think about?”

“Not really, no!” you exclaimed, realizing what you said after it was already out of your mouth. You inhaled sharply, waiting for his reply. He didn’t say anything immediately, so you continued.

“Look, I get that you’re going through a lot but you had no right to be rude to me this entire summer. So let’s pretend for one second that we’re good pals and you can rant about it in this empty apartment.”

He swallowed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking at you again.

“Fine, you want to know what’s been on my mind? We’ve been working endlessly on new music, and none of us actually wanted to go on break. But then Halmeoni hears that I won’t be working for a couple of months and she asks me to come down to ‘get some real work done’. So I pack up and say goodbye to my friends who are going on a group vacation while I come here.

“And I can deal with my grandmother waking me up early to bake, but then she starts talking about this girl who she thinks I would be perfect with, but I’m not looking to start anything because I’m not staying here. She sent me up to your apartment, (Y/N), because she was playing matchmaker. And I kept telling myself that nothing would happen, nothing could happen, because with how chaotic my life is, I can’t handle a relationship right now.

“But I didn’t choose to start falling for you. I came upstairs expecting to meet this poised, college girl who had her whole life together but you burned your toast trying to introduce yourself. Something about you were so, different, I couldn’t help but notice you. I was so busy trying to ignore you for the first couple of weeks that I didn’t notice how far I’d fallen.”

He had gotten quieter again, staring at his hands. You tried to comprehend everything that he had just said but the pounding heart in your ears was so loud you couldn’t focus on anything else. He looked back up again, his face much softer and more vulnerable now.

“(Y/N)? That… that’s all.”

Now it was your turn to be silent. All this time you thought that he hated you, but maybe you should have paid more attention. He was looking at you, expecting you to say something, but your mind was thinking so rapidly you couldn’t focus on a single thought. He must have taken your silence as a rejection, because his shoulders sagged and he sighed softly, picking the book up off of your bed and placing it into the box with the others.

“I should go, I’m sorry.” He said, messing with the zipper on his jacket. He ran out of the room, and finally, your brain decided to switch back on and you moved to go after him. He was already out the door when you got into the main room, but you ran to the open doorway just in case.

“Mark!” you called after him, wondering if he was still able to hear you, “Please don’t run again…”

You gripped the doorway, leaning against it until the echo of your voice had subsided. You walked back into your apartment, looking at all of the boxes. You’d managed to finish packing, so you guess now would be a great time to start actually moving. The tears welling up in your eyes were starting to blur your vision though, and you collapsed on the couch before full on sobbing. You don’t know how long you sat there crying, or if anyone came to the door, but the next thing you knew you felt exhausted from all the emotion of the day, and you didn’t bother getting up from the couch before falling asleep.

~

Mrs. Tuan was the one to wake you up and tell you your moving van was outside. She didn’t comment on how you had fallen asleep on the couch or that you looked like an absolute mess, she just handed you a mug of tea and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. She had grown to be like a grandmother to you, and another wave of sadness crashed over you while you gripped the mug between your hands tighter. You thanked her for coming to get you and retreated to your bedroom in an effort to make yourself look presentable.

When you had made your appearance somewhat to your standards, you went back out and started carrying boxes down the stairs and into the rented van. Both Mr. Tuan’s and Mark’s brother came to help, but you didn’t see Mark himself. It added to the sadness of the day, but you didn’t blame him after you had practically blown off his confession last night.

Mr. Tuan had offered to take the last box down to give you time to say your last goodbyes to the apartment. You were standing, looking around the empty space when you heard a soft knock on your door. You quickly tried to wipe your eyes and turned around to see Mark standing in the doorway. He looked exhausted too.

“Mark, what are you doing here?”

“I have something for you,” he said softly, stepping into the apartment. He came right up to you, then presented a small, white, cardboard box from behind his back.

“From Halmeoni,” he said, smiling at you. You looked up at him, and you couldn’t help smiling back. Even though he looked like a mess, there was something like sunlight radiating off of his face when he looked at you. You took the box from him, and delicately opened the top to find a perfect red bean cake nestled on the inside. You laughed at the similarity to your first meeting and looked back up at him.

“No burning toast this time.”

He laughed too, his eyes sparkling genuinely. “No burnt toast, so maybe we could try this introduction again?”

You smiled, holding your free hand out, “Nice to meet you, I’m (Y/N).”

He took your hand this time, grinning, “I’m Mark, and the pleasure is all mine.”

You felt a small blush creep onto your cheeks, and you ducked your head in embarrassment. He squeezed your hand softly, and when you looked back up, he was staring at you

“What are you doing?” you asked, realizing he had edged closer and was smiling at you fondly.

“Something I should have done a while ago.”

Suddenly, he was leaning into you and you felt your lips touch softly. You were surprised, but you let yourself melt into the kiss, bringing your arms up around his neck to pull you closer together. He smiled against your lips and you couldn’t help but giggle until he kissed you again, still soft but more confident this time. For those few minutes, it was just the two of you, blanketed in the sunlight coming in from the bare window. For those few minutes, all of the silence that had fallen between you was filled with the words you had been meaning to say, all of those moments you thought he was trying to ignore you, washed away by his hands wrapping around you to support you when you felt yourself falling for him even more.

In the moment you broke away, gasping for air but keeping each other close, the silence wasn’t so deafening. He leaned his forehead against yours, but you didn’t dare open your eyes, afraid that once you did, the perfect moment would be shattered. You didn’t want to look at your empty apartment, at the bare walls, at the boy in front of you who you would be losing just as soon as you got him.

“(Y/N),” Mark whispered, his voice feathering against your nose, that you felt yourself shiver from the faint touch. You hushed him, bringing your arms down to wrap around his waist, taking comfort in the cocoon he created with his arms around your shoulders.

“Why didn’t we do that earlier?”

“Because you were quiet and my thoughts were too loud.” you mused. You eventually opened your eyes and looked up at him, seeing that he was already gazing at you softly again.

“So can I expect that every time we see each other or…?”

Your loud laugh echoed around the empty apartment and you unwrapped yourself from him, stepping back to let reality seep back in. “Mark, we should really talk about that.”

He set about fixing his shirt to avoid your eyes, and you knew he didn’t want to talk about this as much as you did.

“(Y/N), I was going to leave early to meet my friends in Spain, but I’d rather stay here for another week now if you’d have me.”

You smiled, but you knew the real question you had to answer. “What about when you go back to work?”

He sighed, messing with his hair, “I’m incredibly busy all the time and we’re supposed to have a comeback after this break, so I won’t be available for a really long time.”

You nodded, “I’m almost a graduate, so I’ll be really busy for these upcoming months too, but shouldn’t we at least try?”

He finally looked up at you, the sadness evident in his eyes giving you an answer.

“But,” he started, reaching out to grab your hand again, “I wouldn’t mind keeping in touch with you until things quiet down again.”

“I’d like that,” you smiled, leaning into the kiss he placed to your cheek, “we’d better get downstairs, the van won’t wait forever.”

You picked the box up off the floor from where it had fallen when Mark kissed you, quickly checking to make sure it wasn’t damaged from the fall. Mark smirked at you when you stood back up, but gripped your freehand like holding you tighter would prevent you from going away. You kept holding hands when you got down to the empty store, just to give Halmeoni the satisfaction of seeing her efforts turn out to be successful. She smiled at you, and you even saw Joey slip Mr. Tuan some money before you went outside. Mark opened the passenger door for you when you got to the van, and you got in reluctantly. Before he closed the door, Mark leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your burned hand, and your smile was bittersweet.

“Ready to go, miss?” The driver asked once Mark had closed the door.

You kept your eyes on the family standing outside of the bakery; Halmeoni waving to you from behind a hand over her mouth and Halabeoji with his arm around her shoulders, Mark’s parents squeezing his arms in comfort, Mark and his brother saying something to each other before turning and waving to you

“I guess so,” you said, and you waved to them as you pulled away from the curb, your second family, and the boy who had more to say than you ever knew.


End file.
